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Dumfries, 1917
Isabella sat leaned up against the kitchen cupboards, her legs extended in front of her, her hands laid down against her sides. There was a bloodied knife discarded beside her, two pools of blood growing on her sides.
She felt numb as she watched the blood pour out from her wrists. Yet she didn't feel anything. No pain. No sorrow. No regret. No guilt. Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. Nothing. She felt numb, somewhat calm. As if the blood pouring out contained all her emotions, both good and bad. She was numb.
Empty. She felt empty. She felt dead inside. She felt disconnected from everything, almost as if she was a third party watching herself slowly bleed out.
She was sick and tired of feeling. She had felt too much for the past days, years even. She was constantly feeling too much. And finally, watching her own blood leave her body, she felt numb. As she watched the blood cells – that had tiredly pumped oxygen through her body for years, ensuring her survival – pour out from her wrists, she felt absolutely nothing.
Deliciously numb.
There were no feelings. Which meant she couldn't feel the guilt she would surely feel, knowing that Nicholas would find her lifeless body. Her cold dead body surrounded by her own blood.
But she was numb. So she didn't feel the guilt. And so she did nothing to stop the blood. She didn't reach for something to cover her wrists. She didn't hold her hand up to lessen the bleeding. She didn't do anything at all. She just watched it pour onto the hardwood floor, as time slowly ticked away.
The clock slowly ticked away, as did her life. As every minute passed, so did the clock on her life. Slowly but surely, Isabella could feel the cold dark embrace of death close in on her.
"Honey, I'm home!" Nicholas walked into the small apartment him and Isabella were renting. "Mrs. Mclean baked a cake for us, so we could celebrate the new year."
Nicholas knew Isabella wouldn't answer him, she was probably laying on the small couch with her glasses resting in her nose as she read a new book. Just as she had been for the past week, ever since they had moves into the small apartment.
She would sit, and squint as she took her time understanding the letters and words of whatever book she had picked up. What used to take her a couple hours to read, would now take her a couple days to read. Nicholas knew how much Isabella hated not being able to read as good as she used to, yet they both believe that the more she practiced, the better she would become. They had no proof or facts to back their theory, only hope. But as for right now, hope was more than enough.
As he walked further into the apartment he slightly smiled once he noticed the light coming from the kitchen. Turning his head towards the living room, he let a grin cover his entire face when he didn't lay eyes on the usual curled up being.
"Progress." He whispered to himself as he walked to the kitchen with a slight prep in his steps. "She said it's called a 'Dundee cake' and that there's a lot of whiske-"
Nicholas stopped dead in his tracks once he stepped through the kitchen doorway. He felt his heart stop beating inside his chest once he laid eyes on Isabella.
His sister. His barely conscious sister leaned up against the cupboard as blood continuously poured out from her veins. "Belle!"
Nicholas took quick strides to Isabella before falling to his knees on the floor in front of her unmoving body. He hurriedly scanned over her body to locate the source of the bleeding.
Laying his eyes on her bleeding wrists he wrapped his hands around them, putting pressure on them to try and stop the bleeding. "What did you do? Isabella?"
"Please keep you eyes open Belle. Please." Nicholas begged with tears streaming down his face. "Please say something."
Isabella watched on as Nicholas let go of her wrists for a moment to rip up two strips of cloth from his shirt, going on to tightly wrap them around her wrists.
She saw as tears fell from his eyes, she could hear him plead and beg for her to answer him, she felt him softly tap her cheeks. Hoping to get any sort of response from her. "Isabella, love, please. Please. Please. Please say something.
You can't leave me. You just can't. I won't know how to live without you. I don't want to live without you. Please. Belle. Please, don't leave me.
I know you probably want to. I know it might be better for you. But it won't be better for me. I can't live in a world where you're dead. I can't. So please. Please. Don't leave me.
We'll get through this together. I promise. We'll figure it out, like we do everything else. We'll be okay. You will be okay. I am here. I'll always be here for you.
So you can't leave me, Belle. I love you. I love you so so much. You're- you're everything. Please." Nicholas sobbed as he kept trying for a response from Isabella, who kept blankly staring at him.
Isabella watched as Nicholas sobbed and screamed at her, pleading her to stay with him. She slowly felt the calm leave her, the numbness disappear. She felt the guilt creep up, the guilt of allowing Nicholas to walk in on the nightmarish scene. "You're not supposed to be home yet."
Nicholas sighed in relief at Isabella's voice. "It's four, I've been back at four."
"Sorry." Isabella apologized, tears welling up in her eyes. "I was going to leave you. I'm sorry."
"Shh. Don't be. Don't be sorry. It's okay. It's all okay." Nicholas used his hand to wipe away a lone tear that fell down Isabella's cheek.
Isabella fell forwards, her head falling onto his chest. She didn't cry. But she allowed herself to be held. She allowed Nicholas to hold her, knowing it would comfort him.
Nicholas wrapped his hand around her, one holding her to his body, the other holding her head. He cried into her hair as he continued to softly whisper sweet nothings to her, assuring her that she was loved, that she would be fine.
After minutes had passed, with both teenagers still wrapped up in each other's comforting arms, Isabella whispered against his shirt. "You need to stitch up the wounds."
♡
Hey loves!
Short little kinda flashback chapter. hope you enjoyed it because there will be more flashback chapters of their travels coming.
What even is this story without Isabella going through it, at every turn. poor girlie.
